


Sunshine and Rainbows

by HyperKid



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Body modifications, Fluff, Other, Scars, Wordless communication from similar souls, identity crisis Molly, introspection and all the angst that comes with it, mentions of self harm, nearly silent Molly, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:14:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29815173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HyperKid/pseuds/HyperKid
Summary: Molly hates the way the red eyes in his skin watch him, and nothing seems to stop them. Toya has an idea to help; making some new marks of Molly’s own.
Relationships: Bo the Breaker & Gustav Fletching & Ornna & Mollymauk Tealeaf & Toya, Mollymauk Tealeaf & Toya, circus family - Relationship
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	Sunshine and Rainbows

**Author's Note:**

> HK: Alright, this just happened because I ~think~ my heart got spiteful about Lucien getting attention and also the eyes.  
> Mollymauk: I fucking knew reading was a bad choice.   
> HK: When you’re right, you’re right.   
> Mollymauk: Nothing good ever came from snooping through other peoples’ journals.   
> HK: Much better to get naked and boiling and have them tell you themselves?   
> Mollymauk: Much! But you know I always appreciate the attention.   
> HK: And you know my constant temptation to run away and write a zillion chapters of baby Molly.   
> Mollymauk: You don’t have the time, or the attention span.   
> HK: And the world is less whumped for it.   
> Mollymauk: Is that a good thing?   
> HK: Dealer’s choice honestly. Turns out the secret to having a bunch of stuff done at once is a long time of not much stuff finishing but all being worked on.   
> Mollymauk: You’ll get there.   
> HK: It is a little bit nice letting that backlog pile grow again. I gotta do more short stuff too.   
> Mollymauk: Aaaaand?   
> HK: *sighs* And I’ll try for a Magic Lube Thursday this month, though it might be a short one. Turns out I have waaaay too many good long ideas that all need lots of effort.   
> Mollymauk: So long as it’s not a year on, a year off. 
> 
> WARNINGS!! Molly reflecting on how much of his body is his and how real he is as a person. Extra big sad Molly hours now that Lucien’s back. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Critical Role or make any money off this, just kicking around in someone else’s sandbox and playing with their toys! I promise not to break them more than the cast already did

Mollymauk stared out at the fields as they rolled past, knees tucked to his chest in the back of the cart. It wasn’t the biggest in the carnival’s caravan, not the large cart that held the tents, but he was still wedged tight between boxes and barrels. 

The nails on his right hand dug and picked idly at the red eye mark on the back of his shoulder. Not able to break that skin, no. Never able to do that. Just digging in around the edges, sharp claws pushing through the surface of his skin as though trying to peel under the edge and rip the thing off. 

A pair of small hands covered his and he stopped at once, gaze shifting to focus on Toya’s soft face, her worried frown. Moved down to his shoulder when she drew her hands away, drops of blood welling up where he’d been clawing. 

With his own hand gone, Toya pressed one of hers gently across the eye, her cooler skin soothing against his heat. 

“Why?” She whispered softly, the voice she’d only just begun to use again cracking under the word. 

Why are you hurting yourself. 

It seemed to surprise the rest of their companions, how much they could communicate without words, or just with the barest few. Molly had never thought to question it; he hadn’t had any words at all until she’d come along. 

He struggled for the right ones now. 

“Not... me. Not mine.” He glowered down at another eye, red staring out of the back of his hand, and pulled it away from her, stuffing it behind a crate. 

Toya’s brows furrowed in thought for a moment and she gently tugged his hand back out, fingers playing gently across the completely impervious stain. 

“Cover?” She asked softly, smoothing her thumb around the edges were the eye met skin. Molly huffed softly and shook his head, turning his face away. Like he could get away from that empty red stare. 

“No.” 

He’d always hated them. An almost instinctual repulsion, like they were lesions or burns rather than just marks. He’d covered himself from head to toe, smothering the stupid things, but that made people stare at him. Made them suspect. Caused trouble for the carnival. 

He was a tiefling, Gustav said, and people could be stupid about tieflings. Orna said he should be proud and wear his differences, his horns like a crown. 

Molly didn’t mind the horns. His tail was fun, and he could flick it, and pull at things, and carry things. He liked being a tiefling, probably more than he thought he’d like being anything else. 

He hated the fucking eyes. 

Staring out of his flesh like a bloody signature of whoever’d had this body before him. Whoever’d been so hated to end up in a shallow, unmarked grave, completely unremembered. A reminder that he wasn’t real. 

Molly had been alive for... he paused for a long moment, counting. He had to learn counting, it made him useful. Reading, he couldn’t much see the point of, but everyone told him he needed to count. 

He could count gold. The circus saw copper more often than not, but Molly had learned counting on the shimmering gold bangles of Orna’s costume. They shone so prettily they always caught his attention, and she’d given him three to practice on. 

Nine. 

He’d been alive nine weeks now. And this body hadn’t, this body was older, had been someone else’s and they’d left their mark on it and they weren’t ~him~. He knew that as viscerally as he knew the sky was up and the earth was down. 

It was more proof that he wasn’t real. Just a passing fancy, and someday whoever this body belonged to would come back and take it away and he’d be nothing. Empty. 

Toya was still frowning down at the eye, her soft little fingers tracing over and around it. For the flash of a second Molly worried it’d bite her. That had been a fun discovery, that the drops of his blood could cause flashes of ice. Of pain for whoever was trying to help him. 

Whoever had this body before, Molly very much did not want to meet them. He’d rather erase every last trace of their presence. 

Toya must have thought of something, her whole face lighting up as she scrambled back through the rest of the boxes, digging around. 

“Bo! Paints!” She called plaintively, pushing aside a crate of apples. Their bodyguard looked back from the front of the cart, a fond smile on his face. 

“Next box over, little one,” he told her gently, “should be under the new signs.” His gaze landed on Molly for a moment, just a little worry flicking across his face at the new drops of red staining his shirt. 

Molly turned away, tail tucking around his ankles and trying to curl in on himself. Automatically his hand reached back to scratch at the eye again and he had to force it down sharply. 

That was what worried Bo in the first place. Doing it more wasn’t going to help. 

It wasn’t like he’d actually manage to pick the damn thing off. Someone always seemed to show up to stop him if he tried. 

Toya scrambled back towards him, a pot of the bright yellow sign paint in her hands. It was crude stuff, garish and a little drippy, but they both loved how bright it was. The pop of colour. 

Crossing her legs in front of him, she impatiently tugged his marked hand back over. A little perplexed, Molly let her have it, turning back a little more to face her. 

He’d tried painting over the eyes. Tried smearing them in mud, dirt, food, paint, anything he could get his hands on. It all just beaded on the surface, rubbing off with barely a whisper of pressure. Like whatever put them there couldn’t be denied. 

Without a brush, Toya cracked open the pot and dipped her fingers directly into the paint, daubing carefully across Molly’s hand. Not covering the eye, though a few smears crossed it anyway. She wasn’t being careful to miss it. 

No, she worked around the eye, drawing a wonky circle across the back of his hand and filling it in messily. Every bump in the road jostled them and Molly did his best to compensate, stifling a laugh as a particularly hard lurch sent her lunging to catch the paint pot before it could spill. 

Soon she was giggling too, carefully adding wiggly little rays all round the edge of her circle, and finally she held it up to show Molly her work. The eye was still there, defiantly red, surrounded by a bright yellow and blobby sun. 

“Yours,” she said softly, coming around so she could sit beside him. 

Molly couldn’t take his eyes off it. The yellow clashed horrendously with his purple skin, much bolder than his light lavender. It was certainly eye catching. Beautiful. It dwarfed that nasty smear of red, wrapped it in a cheery yellow that, though not covering it, made it seem... less. 

Less prominent, less a bulging stain on scarred flesh, a glaring brand of something horrible. 

A soft huff of effort caught his attention again as Orna pulled herself up to sit on the cart beside them, looking over at Toya’s artwork. 

“You know, we could try tattooing over them,” she told him softly, easily picking up what had been passing for conversation. It wasn’t exactly a secret how uncomfortable the eyes made Molly in his skin. She took his hand gently, turning it back and forth to examine Toya’s clumsy sun. “Even if it won’t cover them, they’d be less noticeable with more around them. It will hurt,” she added firmly, forcing him to meet her eyes. 

Molly stared back, wondering why she’d bothered to tell him. Lots of things hurt, and he did most of them anyway. Most of the circus did. 

“Tattoo?” He asked softly, not quite sure what she meant. 

She gave him a quick smile, pulling her shirt aside to reveal a small, fiery flower just above her hip. He’d seen it before about a dozen times. Once he’d tried to wipe it off, but it was always there. 

“Like this. Bo does them. It’s a kind of drawing with ink and a needle, that never comes off. It’s not pleasant, and bony places like your hand and your neck will hurt more, and you’ll have to stay perfectly still. You’ll need to know exactly what you want too, because you won’t be able to change it later; it will stay on your skin forever.” 

Her hand covered his for a moment, her thumb brushing the smears of paint off the bright red eye. For the first time, it didn’t look quite so sinister as it stared up at him. Her smile softened just a little. 

“This is your body now. Who’s to say you can’t put your own marks on it?”

Molly sucked in a shaky breath, his mind suddenly blank. 

It just... he... hadn’t thought of it like that before. The marks had always been a reminder of the old owner, that he wasn’t the first and would never be the real person whose body this was. Stains from a past he knew nothing about but half formed nightmares. 

Like he was just a guest in this skin, whose welcome might be revoked at any time. It was one of the things that scared him the most; that one day he might wake up and not be himself anymore. That the old owner would just come back and he’d be nothing but a minor inconvenience. 

Toya scooted closer, pushing up his arms and tugging his knees down so she could climb into his lap. He closed his arms around her automatically, let her still painty fingers trace up his arms. Tilting her head all the way back, she looked at him quizzically. 

“What would you want?” She asked in her whispery voice, pulling a face as it strained her throat. They were both learning to talk again, little by little, but it was no good rushing it. 

Molly frowned a little, looking around quickly. He’d had a water skin... Orna was already a step ahead of him, twisting for a moment to pass Toya a small bottle. The halfling girl gave them each an exasperated look, but took a few sips anyway. And poked at Molly’s arm to remind him he owed her an answer. 

Which left him staring back at the lines and lines of scars. 

A larger, darker hand joined Toya’s, stroking gently across his skin. 

“Tattoos can cover those too,” she told him softly, a slight smile on her face, “but you’d need to be careful if you wanted to keep using your arms for that blood magic. They’ll be tender while they heal, and you can fuck them up by cutting across them.” 

That made Molly hesitate a little more, turning his arm over slowly. 

The scars, he didn’t mind so much. Other members of the circus had scars, and whatever strangeness gave him the power to blind or hurt people was useful on the road. He could use it, whatever it was, and it helped his family. 

It was his, even if he still wasn’t quite sure how it worked or what else he could do. Something that came with the body even if he wasn’t the first owner. 

Maybe he could leave something behind too, even if he didn’t have this skin forever. It was his now, and whoever the previous owner was, they weren’t the only one who could leave something behind. 

As for what, though... he glanced back across at Orna and where her fire flower sat below her skin. She shifted to show him again, letting him look at the simple, lovely little shape. Glancing up for permission, he ran a finger gently across the flower. 

It wasn’t raised, wasn’t textured in that strange, inhumanly smooth way that the eyes on his body were. It just felt like more skin. Still her. 

Orna smiled, leaning back to give him a little more space to look. 

“Would you like flowers?” She asked, a hint of laughter in her voice. 

Almost without thinking about it, Molly found himself nodding. Hesitated. There were a ~lot~ of the fucking eyes. He’d have a lot of skin to cover; maybe more than just some flowers. 

His gaze wandered back towards the crate Toya had pulled the paint from, half full with signs and banners. He’d always loved the banners, all of the bright, colourful streamers and clothes that came with the circus. 

Seeing the indecision in his face, Orna smiled and leaned in to pat his cheek. 

“No rush. We’ll have plenty of time, and it’s not like you’re going to get them all at once. Maybe start with something small first to see if you like it.” 

Toya brightened up, squirming from Molly’s lap and hurrying back to the crate to tug one of the brighter banners free. It was a deep blue colour, covered in gold and silver signs and sigils. It had come from a fortune teller who used to be part of the circus, but had left in the last town. 

No one in the circus had really asked, but she’d left a couple of her effects behind. Supposedly because she didn’t want to carry so much, but Molly had always loved this one. 

Toya spread it across his legs, pointing at some of the bright silver symbols. The two turned expectantly to Orna and she sighed softly, a fond smile on her face. 

“Words, Molly,” she prompted gently and he huffed. Cleared his throat. 

“Could...” 

Toya pushed the water into his hand and he shot her a grateful smile and took a gulp. It was hard to remember to talk all the time when most of the circus had gotten used to his silence. 

“Could I have these?” He asked quietly, his voice little more than Toya’s whisper. Stringing the words together into a question still strained a little, but Orna smiled and ruffled his hair. 

“I think Bo could do those for you, if you like. You’ll have to decide where you want them too,” she added and Molly huffed again. 

This was beginning to feel a lot like work, but... it felt good. He felt hopeful, like maybe this really could be his body too. A way that he could leave something behind, something that would really be remembered even if he was gone one day. 

He wasn’t one to put too much thought into things and as he turned the banner slowly over, he traced his fingers across the shapes. It didn’t much matter what they were, or what they meant; he couldn’t read anyway, and while he was semi reluctantly committed to learning to count, reading was optional. 

The circus’ business was almost all talking anyway, and reluctantly or not he was learning that. 

Bo would help him come up with something, and probably Gustav and the rest too. This life attracted people with a certain flair for the artistic, with a creativity that just didn’t do well within the bounds of normal life. Just the place for a purple tiefling to blend in while standing out. 

Molly hesitated for a moment, a small smile tugging at his lips, and went back to looking at the sun Toya had drawn on his hand. It was wonky where the cart had bumped across the uneven road, but the colour made him smile. 

Whatever he ended up with, he definitely wanted colour. 

**Author's Note:**

> HK: I think what I’m craving right now is a good soft cuddle puddle, so either that or another heaping dose of angst will be next! Stay safe everyone.


End file.
